


The New Watcher

by kwritten



Category: Brown-Eyed Girls (Band), Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Miss A
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire Slayer, Child Abandonment, Child Abuse, F/F, Female Character of Color, Female Friendship, Gen, Harm to Children, Original Character Death(s), Parents & Children, RPF, Slayer-Watcher Relationship, Triggers, Vampire Slayer(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 06:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwritten/pseuds/kwritten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jia doesn't really care about the her new Watcher.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The New Watcher

Jia was still in mourning. Well - you couldn't see it, she was only wearing a black ribbon in her hair. Tied straight, no bow.   
  
She was still Jia.  
  
Even if he....  
  
She hadn't cried at the funeral. No one expected her to. There was a sense of safety in that. In being a Slayer, in having a duty, in having a place and a purpose, in showing up to a funeral in runners and yoga pants, covered in dirt and no one blinked.  
  
They didn't have the right.  
  
They couldn't tell her not to do her job.  
  
Not that she'd ask for a day off. Not from  _them_.  
  
It was all their fault he...  
  
She was  _not_  blinking harder. She was not anxiously pulling at the long black ribbon dangling over her shoulder. Her foot was not tapping on the ground restlessly.  
  
"Ah!" a low gasp came from the doorway. Jia heard a low murmur at the doorway and she braced herself.  
  
"Top of her class" they had said. "A real tribute to the Council" the told her. They smiled encouragingly and patted each other on the back. "An upright woman" they said to each other over her head before walking away, leaving her in a tiny room, stale with time.  
  
A soft clapping sound approached her, but she refused to turn her head. This woman - whomever she was - would not take the place of the man who had adopted her, raised her, protected her, right until...  
  
Nope.  _Respect my ass_. She carefully examined her fingernails, refusing to stand. Refusing to show deference to this new woman, this new Watcher who dared presume to take her  ~~father's~~  Watcher's place.   
  
Thin feet with green-painted toenails, little rings gleaming on the toes, in stylish sandals. There was a delicate silver chain around one ankle. The feet passed by her, a chair was pulled in front of her, and then she was staring at thin, tan knees.  
  
"Aish!" a manicured hand reached into her view and tugged lightly on the ribbon near her ear. A finger trailed down her jawline.  
  
No one had touched her since they pulled her screaming off his bloody body. Even the vamp the night of his funeral hadn't laid a hand on her.   
  
She smiled to herself a little,  _yeah - I'm that good_.  
  
She heard a harsh intake of breath and then a beer bottle was shoved under her nose. "Drink."  
  
Jia snatched the bottle as the woman let it go and pulled her hand away. She had to grab it out of thin air, the Watcher hadn't waited for her to take it, to be sure her hand was on it. She glared up furiously.  
  
The woman smiled a thin, bright smile back at her, raising her eyebrows, "That Slayer speed comes in handy."  
  
Jia was being teased. She rolled her eyes and took a swig out of the open bottle.   
  
The woman before her followed suit, crossing her legs, and flipping her hair out of her face to all fall on one side.  
  
Both sides of her head were shaved just above the ears, the rest of her hair hung long and thick below her shoulders. She was wearing very little - a halter top, thin sweater, and low-cut shorts. On her hip bones, Jia could see the trace of tattoos she couldn't make out. The woman was thin, wiry, almost vibrating with energy.  
  
She masked her surprise. She hadn't really expected anything, a tool of the Watcher's Council, a young girl they had wrapped around their finger, someone green and manipulable.   
  
The woman watched Jia drink from under narrowed eyes and then suddenly stood, turning the chair around so that she straddled it, angling closer to Jia so that both of her knees were framing Jia's own chair. She shrunk back, tugging on her ribbon.  _What the fuck?!_  
  
Miryo cocked her head to one side and then handed Jia her drink silently. Jia took it. She figured if she hadn't, the crazy woman would have let it fall to the ground without flinching.  
  
She shrugged out of her thin sweater and threw it to the ground restlessly, then held out her arms for Jia to see, thrusting her wrists practically into her face.  
  
She was covered in scars.  
  
Long, deep, jagged scars crisscrossed across her arms. Evenly spaced like fingernails. White with memory.

But what shocked Jia were the matching puncture wounds on both forearms, just below the inside of her elbows. Two sets of identical scars from vampire fangs. She set down the beers on the chair to her right and then took the older woman's arms in her hands, tracing the scars with her fingers delicately.   
  
The goosebumps that rose on the woman's skin made Jia shiver just slightly.  
  
"How?" the word was strangled, caught, a whisper and a sob, she was pleading and didn't dare hide her need.  
  
"My parents disappeared for days at a time when I was young. Once, when I was twelve, they came home famished and strange. Not hungover like usual. Manic. Happy. Delirious. They started to pet me like they hadn’t ever… not once had I ever received even a simple hug from my mother until that day. They drank from me and all I could think was that I hoped this meant they finally needed me. They finally wanted me around.”  
  
Jia swallowed and dropped her hands from the woman’s arms, hugging herself, pushing herself back into the chair. She didn’t want to hear the rest. She wasn’t ready for the rest.  
  
The woman’s eyes seemed to glow with unshed tears as she looked down at her scars, “And then I realized that it wasn’t enough. I grabbed the lighter out of my father’s pocket and set his hair on fire. And then I ran. They said in the newspapers that it was a gas leak. A tragedy. Knowing what I know now about dusting vamps.” She shook her head and reached over Jia’s legs to grab one of the beers off the ground, taking a swig, shaking her head slightly as if to release the memory.   
  
“It shouldn’t have been possible,” Jia whispered.  
  
“No. It shouldn’t.” The woman paused for a moment, considering, then directed her steely gaze on Jia again. “Fuck them. They were shit parents and they were stupid vamps.”  
  
Jia wasn’t sure if she should laugh. But she did anyway. She maybe was a bit hysterical, she didn’t care. She heard the woman’s laughter join hers, mingling in, their tones low, understanding and flowing around each other.  
  
When the laughter dissipated and they were once again drinking in silence – though now Jia’s right knee banged up against the Watcher’s and she didn’t shrink from the other’s gaze, didn’t look away sullenly. Even though she felt more raw and exposed now than she had at the beginning of the conversation; but less like she was a freak on display.  
  
“They found … well. He found me, you know?”  
  
Jia stared.  _Not possible. Not even possible._  
  
The woman smiled. “He found me outside the house just before it went up into flames, he was doing field work and had followed them. He raised me – even though I kept running away, I was stubborn. I wasn’t used to rules or a – a bed, even. He kept the door open, food in the cupboard. Until I was ready to learn his trade. I hunted alone, he followed me and protected me until I could hold out. He sent me to England when I was sixteen. The youngest trainee to be accepted to the Watcher’s Academy,” she smiled to herself. “I raised quite a stir.”

Jia smiled back. She didn’t doubt it.  
  
The woman’s voice grew lower as she leaned a little more heavy on the back of the chair, angling closer towards Jia. "He let me rename myself, reinvent myself. I wasn’t the neglected, uneducated village child of drug addicts if I didn’t want to be. He let me be Miryo. No…” She mused and Jia had to lean forward to catch the words. “I was Miryo because I chose to be. He could not have disallowed anything.”  
  
Jia cleared her throat, “So… does this mean we’re… like sisters or something?”  
  
Miryo grabbed her chin with her hands and held her tight, Jia’s breath hitched, “I really wish you wouldn’t… think of me that way.”


End file.
